


you can cut all the flowers

by rain_sleet_snow



Series: without knowing how, or when, or where [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Destruction of Alderaan (Star Wars), Family Secrets, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Past Torture, Planet Alderaan (Star Wars), Planet Tatooine (Star Wars), Polyamory, Relationship Discussions, Tatooine Folklore (Star Wars), Trust Issues, Unconventional Families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27104233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rain_sleet_snow/pseuds/rain_sleet_snow
Summary: Beru and her niece become acquainted under the worst possible circumstances.
Relationships: Bail Organa & Breha Organa & Leia Organa, Chewbacca & Han Solo, Leia Organa & Beru Whitesun, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Leia Organa, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Owen Lars/Beru Whitesun, Owen Lars & Luke Skywalker & Beru Whitesun, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: without knowing how, or when, or where [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/738735
Comments: 46
Kudos: 394





	you can cut all the flowers

**Author's Note:**

> For Beru Appreciation Day over on tumblr!

Princess Leia hadn’t allowed anyone to see the flight plan that she filed in the navicomputer, and for reasons that were quite beyond Beru, the navicomputer in question was now refusing to display the chosen coordinates to Captain Solo or to Chewbacca. Captain Solo reclaimed his captain’s chair, muttering something about feminine solidarity, and Princess Leia went as stiff as a board for a second that made Beru think an explosion was imminent. But then she caught Luke’s eye and all the anger drained out of her, leaving behind not a steel-spined junior senator but a pale, exhausted orphan.

She had just the same chin as Luke, Beru noted, pointed and stubborn, and when she was tired and afraid the skin around her eyes whitened and her mouth set in just the same way. There were marks peeking from under the high collar of her dress that suggested she had not walked away from Imperial custody untouched. 

“I’ll make a cup of tea,” Beru said, “if Chewbacca would be so good as to show me the kitchen.”

Chewbacca roared an acknowledgement. Captain Solo was still complaining about his navicomputer, which was bleeping in a way even Beru could tell was insolent.  
  


“I should speak to General Kenobi,” Princess Leia said, dredging up the weary remnants of poise.

“General Kenobi is currently having a serious discussion with his husband, but he will be with you very soon,” Beru said, trying to match the princess's level of formality and also soothe her enough that she would sit down. She seemed restless; controlled, but restless, searching for something to do.

“I didn’t know General Kenobi was married,” Princess Leia said. “I must congratulate him.”

“He’s my uncle,” Luke said, carrying a blanket through from one of the bunks. “Sit down, Leia. You look finished. He brought me to Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru when I was a baby, because he was my dad’s best friend and wanted to make sure I had a safe home, except he never left.”

Princess Leia sat down absently on a padded bench next to the dejarik table. She had fine, small hands; hands like Padmé’s, and they shook like Padmé’s had, when she waited for Anakin Skywalker to return from the desert with his mother’s body. “You’re adopted, too?”

“Not exactly. My aunt and uncle brought me up.” Luke draped the blanket carefully over her shoulders, and she murmured thanks and tugged it closer about her chest. “My parents died in the Clone Wars.”

  
  
“My birth parents, too,” Princess Leia said very quietly. “And now.” Her voice cut off, and Luke sat down next to her and put an arm around her. Princess Leia’s hauteur seemed to be largely the product of fear and irritation; now she was safe at least for the moment, she leaned into Luke’s arm like it was the only solid thing in the world.

They looked nothing alike at a first glance, and yet, knowing what Beru now knew, it was so obvious that they were brother and sister. 

She glanced in the direction of the legal cargo hold. She had left Ben to Owen’s tender ministrations. She was much too worried about the children to confront Ben with the bluntness required, and Owen was angrier with him, the kind of anger born of watching Ben try to sacrifice his life to ensure their escape and given fuel by Ben's deception, lies of omission or not. Beru couldn’t hear shouting, but neither man would want the children to hear.

“Chewbacca, I really think we could all use a cup of tea,” she said.

The Falcon’s galley was small and cramped, but effective. Han Solo clearly liked good food, when he could afford it. Beru saw the unmistakable signs of someone who had to watch his budget carefully, but also someone for whom nutrition was a fixation. It seemed likely either Chewbacca or Captain Solo had regularly gone hungry in the past.

Chewbacca helped Beru make tea, and she listened to Luke and Princess Leia talking. Luke had got Princess Leia off the subject of her parents by telling her funny stories about Owen, Beru and Ben - classics like the year Ben had discovered he’d technically been married for half a decade, or the time that Beru had frightened the life out of Luke’s ex-boyfriend who still couldn’t look her in the eye, or the time that Owen had accidentally fallen into the droids’ oil bath and dripped everywhere. Little domestic tales, and they couldn’t raise a laugh right now, but Princess Leia was listening and smiling a little, and when Chewbacca slipped a cup of tea between her hands with a bracing howl that Beru interpreted as an instruction to drink up since it was good for her, she thanked him more brightly than she had spoken before.

“I didn’t know trio marriage was available on Tatooine,” Princess Leia said.

“Oh, it’s not about the number of people,” Luke said cheerfully. “Although I guess eventually the paperwork might get complicated. It’s about who the household can support and the roles the people in it take. Uncle Ben and Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen are all good providers - they could take on another spouse or adopt a child if they wanted. Although I guess things are different now.”

  
“I am not marrying anyone else,” Beru said, sitting down at the dejarik table. “Your uncles are quite enough trouble to be going on with.”

Princess Leia smiled. Beru had never seen either Anakin or Padmé smile: she had no idea if Princess Leia took after one of them, or if her smile, watery and brave as it was, came from Queen Organa. Or King Organa. Or - heavens, Ben had mentioned Princess Leia’s parents’ names, but in all the upheaval it had gone right out of Beru’s head.

“Do you think they’ll be finished with their discussion soon?” Princess Leia said. “My fa- my father said it was urgent that I talk to General Kenobi as soon as possible. And then there are the Death Star plans.”

“Very shortly, I should hope,” Beru said. “Drink up your tea, your highness, and if they aren’t done when you’re finished, I’ll go and interrupt them. Owen is very upset with Ben for almost getting himself killed.”

And for other things, she added silently.

“General Kenobi fought _Darth Vader_ ,” Princess Leia said, with palpable awe. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know who that is, but in this household, heroic self-sacrifice is not acceptable.” 

Luke grinned.

Princess Leia sipped slowly at her tea. Very regular little sips, Beru noticed, perfect posture. It all seemed a bit mechanical - alien to her experience, such as it was, of the princess.

There were footsteps close by, and Beru turned her head to see both her husbands walk in. They looked tired, and Obi-Wan looked somewhat worn.

“Your Highness,” he said, with gentle formality. “If you are not too tired, I would like to speak with you.” 

Princess Leia set her cup aside and rose, smoothing down the skirt of her dress. 

“And I will need to speak with you afterwards, Luke. This concerns you too.”

Luke looked very confused, and drank tea instead of responding. Owen sat down heavily beside him, and Beru patted his hand. Luke smiled at her, the same sunshine smile he’d always given them, and Beru couldn’t help but wonder how much longer they would get to see it, now that they were all headed off to war. She knew well enough that was where they were going, whether the others had spotted it or not yet: they would be lucky if Imperial spies weren’t already following them. They had the most valuable information in the galaxy, one of Darth Vader’s prisoners, and one of the Empire’s most wanted on board.

Beru suppressed a shiver, and folded her hands tightly around her cup. Chewbacca gestured as if to ask whether she would like another one. Whoever had raised Captain Solo, Chewbacca at least had manners.

Obi-Wan’s talk with the princess was surprisingly short. Perhaps fifteen minutes long. He returned to the main cabin looking older and more tired than ever, and very much alone.

“Princess Leia has gone to the bunkrooms,” Ben said. “I think it best that she not be alone - but also I believe she does not wish to speak to me.”  
  


“What the hell’d you do, old man,” Captain Solo said, slouching in from the cockpit. “If you jeopardise my payout -”

Owen shifted ominously. As angry at Ben as he was, the chances that he would let go insults to Ben from a no-good Corellian backwater kid were slim.

Beru cleared her throat. “Thank you for the delicious tea, Captain Solo.”

  
“Uh - me? I didn’t. I - it was Chewie, ma’am.”

“I already thanked Chewbacca,” Beru said, smiling at the Wookiee, who laughed - probably at Captain Solo. “I appreciate the skill it’s taken for you to bring us this far, too. I can’t think of anyone else who would have been capable of it.”

“That’s hardly strange on Tatooine, ma’am.”

  
  
“My own experience of the galaxy is somewhat broader,” Ben said smoothly. Beru suppressed the impulse to kick him. “I must concur with my wife. Your work is impressive.”

Beru smiled impartially at everyone. “Do excuse me,” she said, and went away without waiting to hear a response from anyone at all.

  
  
  


When Beru knocked softly on the bunkroom door, Princess Leia called “Come in!” It was a smaller and snifflier noise than Beru had associated with the princess before, and she wasn’t surprised to find that the girl had drawn herself up very straight and rigid on the bunk she was sitting on. Luke slouched, like most teenagers of Beru’s acquaintance, but when he was upset he held himself with the same stiffness.

“Can I help you, Madam Whitesun Lars?” Princess Leia said, folding her hands in her lap. Title right first time, Beru noted. Ben must have told her how it worked.

“I noticed earlier that you were injured, your highness,” Beru said. “I thought I might help you. And I don’t think you have a change of clothes. Mine will be rather large on you, but at least they will do while the dress you’re wearing is washed and dried.”

Princess Leia stared at her with enormous brown eyes that reminded Beru of no-one so much as her late mother-in-law. It seemed the princess had the same essential grace, because she bowed her head and said quietly: “Thank you. I would be very grateful.” She paused. “General Kenobi tells me there is a first-aid kit in the fresher, and unfortunately I need it.”

“Are you badly hurt?”

Princess Leia shook her head. “It’s largely superficial. They’d left me alone for twelve hours or so, I think, so most of the neurotoxins interrogation droids use will have worn off.”

Beru’s heart lurched. “That sounds very unpleasant. Your highness.”  
  
Princess Leia flinched. Beru thought about the devastation of Alderaan, and how Ben had collapsed into a seat, and Luke had got a nosebleed and wept uncontrollably, and Princess Leia - likely just as Force-sensitive as either of them, if untrained - had faced her planet’s destruction alone and surrounded by enemies. “Please. I’d prefer to be called Leia.”

“Then I’m Beru,” Beru said gently. “Suppose I go and find those clothes for you while you wash.”

  
  


Beru had not brought many changes of clothes with her, for obvious practical reasons, but unlike Leia she wasn’t confined to one dress, one set of underwear, and one pair of socks, probably none of which she had been able to change for the last several days. Beru picked out some warm, sensible clothes - she’d noticed the princess shivering, and her dress was thin - and passed them through the door to Leia. 

“Do you need help with the first-aid kit?” Beru said, accompanied by the sounds of Leia dressing.

"If you would be so good," Leia said, somewhat muffled. Beru entered the bathroom to find that she had fought a vest over her head, and that her neck and shoulders were patterned with bruising. The belt had been done up to its tightest hole and the trousers were cuffed at the ankles; Leia was even shorter than Beru. Her slim white boots had not fit over Beru's thick socks, and in socked feet, her hair coming loose from its heavy, elaborate style, and wearing Beru's oversized clothes, she looked her true age. Her poise and her senatorial regalia had led Beru to guess her age at twenty or even twenty-one, and bless whatever lucky stars the Skywalkers might possess that Anakin had known at least one of his children, but from what Ben had admitted, Leia was exactly the same age as Luke: just short of her nineteenth birthday.

_You should have brought her to us,_ Owen had said. _Separating twins - it's worse than bad luck. Well, look where we are!_

Ben had bowed his head. 

_And I suppose we have to get used to calling you Obi-Wan now._

_I - Owen,_ Ben had said wretchedly, followed by an ugly pause. _I prefer Ben._

Beru had said nothing. Now she smoothed cream over Leia's neck and shoulders at Leia's direction, and disinfected needle marks surrounded by blooming bruises, and tried to be angry only at the Empire. Not that she would have been safe with her brother, exactly - Beru knew as well as most that Tatooine wasn't safe - but it was clear Leia had grown up harder and faster than Luke, with comparatively little room to be a child. A senator at sixteen! And an easy target for Darth Vader, apparently, despite her parents' best attempts to safeguard her.

Leia shivered but did not flinch as Beru finished caring for her injuries - the ones she had mentioned; Beru had seen her take painkillers, and didn't doubt that there were others Leia had kept to herself. Beru helped her pull the shirt over her head, since she couldn't lift her arms without obvious pain, and waited for her to tuck the shirt into the trousers before helping her into the jacket. 

"There," Beru said. One of Leia's heavy buns was unravelling. "What did you want to do with your hair?"

Leia's hand brushed her hair almost unconsciously, and she winced, lowering her arm. "There's too much of it to wash right now. I don't usually do it more than once a week anyway. I thought I'd just take it down and brush it and… I don't know, do something with it."

"I could do it for you, if you liked. To stop it from getting tangled." 

Leia looked torn. Beru didn't know why, but it wasn't hard to guess. Perhaps she had happy memories of her mother styling her hair, and it hurt too much to think of letting someone else do it. Perhaps, self-reliant and self-possessed, she couldn't bear asking someone she hardly knew for more help. Perhaps she just wanted to be alone.

"I could go and get you something to eat while you decide," Beru suggested, bundling up Leia's things as they returned to the bunk room. Were it not for the fact that they were Leia's only clothes, Beru would have suggested burning them. That many bad memories deserved to go up in smoke. "Since you haven't eaten anything in at least twelve hours."

"I'm not very hungry," Leia said, sounding desolate. She sat back down on the bunk, and her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her shoulders were straight, but more as if it were habit than anything else. "But… I should eat. Thank you, Beru, I would like that." 

"You're welcome," Beru said gently, folding up the white dress. 

"Beru," Leia said suddenly, as Beru was about to leave. "You said you knew my mother."

In the cell. Yes, Beru had said that. "I met your birth mother briefly," Beru said. "She was married to Owen's step-brother."

"Oh, of course," Leia said. "Of course. I guessed -" 

She fell silent. Beru's heart ached for her. Yes, of course Beru had never met the ruler of a Core planet, never mind that ruler's consort. But Leia had hoped, just for a second.

"Is there anything you can't eat?" Beru asked, after a short silence. 

"No," Leia said, staring at her hands. "I have no allergies or dietary requirements."

"Is there anything you don't like?" 

"Thank you for asking, but no, there isn't. It's too kind of you to offer me a meal."

"There are no debts between us," Beru said gently. It wasn't the kind of formality Leia was used to, no doubt, but Beru thought she would recognise the intent.

She closed the door carefully behind her when she went.

  
  


The main cabin was quiet. Captain Solo was in the cockpit, talking to Ben; or perhaps talking at Ben. He was a very young man, after all - much younger than he thought - and General Kenobi was clearly someone worth impressing in his eyes, though Beru wasn’t convinced that rambling was the way to do it. She wondered why Captain Solo found her husband so interesting, and tried a little harder to remember whatever she had known of the General Kenobi from the Clone Wars. 

But she had other priorities, and quickly set that one aside. Luke had fallen asleep on the bench seat, curled up behind the dejarik table with Leia's blanket over him: Beru brushed a lock of blond hair off his face and tucked a corner of the blanket securely around his shoulder. She could hear grumbling from the galley, and it surprised her very little to walk in there and find Owen crashing around in a muted sort of way, complaining quietly and consistently to Chewbacca. Chewbacca understood Basic, Beru knew, and probably understood when Owen dropped into pungent Huttese. Owen understood no Wookiee at all, but since all Chewbacca was doing in response was moaning in an understanding sort of way whenever Owen stopped for breath, Beru didn’t think it mattered.

“- _lying bastard_ , slept in our bed for twenty years and never, not even once, bothered to mention -”

“Seventeen,” Beru corrected.

Owen stopped. “What?”

“Seventeen years,” Beru said, and glanced at Chewbacca. “Ben is very reserved, you know. It took him a while to notice we were courting him.”

Owen stood stock still for a second, and then leaned back against the counter and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t understand why you aren’t angrier with him.”

Beru set the kettle boiling and leaned against the counter next to him, tapping her fingers on the plastic while she thought.

  
“I am angry,” she said slowly. “Just not in the same way." She stared into the middle distance, and pressed her lips together, trying to find the words. "He made bad choices, and we're all paying for them now. But he was grieving and shellshocked and did what he was advised to do, what he thought was safest, and then the smartest thing he could do to protect both children was to keep the secret he’d created. I don't forgive his lies, but it does make a kind of sense.” She looked at Owen. “You knew he had a secret. We both did.”

  
“I thought he was just an ordinary Jedi!”

Chewbacca rumbled something that Beru had no difficulty in parsing as _there’s no such thing_. She smiled fleetingly.

“We hid him from the Empire. We hid Luke from the Empire. We could have found out who he was if we'd wanted to; we didn't try. We knew there was something, we just didn’t know it was this.” She sighed, and poured another two cups of tea as the kettle boiled. “You remember what he was like when he first showed up on Tatooine, Owen. He was looking for death. He was hardly in a position to make rational decisions.” 

Owen folded his arms across his chest. “He should have _told_ us.” 

“Oh, absolutely,” Beru said. “And I am going to take it out of his hide, just not right this instant. Chewbacca, where would I find some snacks for Leia? Moff Tarkin doesn’t seem to have thought it worthwhile to feed a prisoner he was going to execute, but the poor child has lost her appetite.”

The ensuing howl was sympathetic, and Chewbacca nudged Beru politely aside to go through the cupboards. Owen folded his arms tighter and scowled.

Beru ignored him. Owen’s temper had always flashed quicker and fiercer than her own: one reason why he and Anakin had cordially disliked each other. Well, Owen had disliked Anakin, and he hadn’t been particularly cordial about it. Anakin had most likely never really registered Owen’s existence.

Chewbacca assembled a small plate of biscuits and nuts and a yoghurt laced with fruit for Leia, and presented it to Beru. Beru couldn’t help wondering who on earth was eating the fruit yoghurts - she recognised them, they were a local Mos Eisley brand, which argued they had been bought recently - and whether Captain Solo had a healthy streak or Chewbacca was trying to force a balanced diet on him. She thanked Chewbacca politely, and took the plate and the mugs carefully back to Leia.

Leia had advanced from sitting exactly where Beru had left her to lying on the bunk, but her eyes were open and she sat up hastily as Beru came in. 

“Here you are,” Beru said, setting the tea down on a tiny built-in shelf and handing Leia the plate. “Compliments of Chewbacca. Would you like me to comb your hair?”

“Yes please,” Leia said wearily. “If it’s not too much trouble.” She poked at the plate, and Beru saw some interest revive in her eyes. “Who keeps yoghurt in deep space?”

“I was just asking myself that question.” Beru sat down and took a comb from her pocket. “My theory is Chewbacca wants Captain Solo to eat healthily.”

  
  
Leia let out an involuntary snort, and seemed to lighten enough to pick at the biscuits and nuts. Beru began pulling pins from her hair.

Leia had thick, heavy, waist-length hair; keeping it up in elaborate styles must make her head ache, and Leia sighed with relief as it fell loose from the heavy buns, but by the looks of things, she had never considered cutting it. It was so long that it couldn’t have been cut short, except for whatever trims were necessary to keep it healthy. There was some grease at the roots, but as Beru combed slowly through, picking knots apart without pulling, she found that even though Leia hadn’t had the opportunity to wash her hair for several days it was still quite clean. Maybe whatever product helped hold it in those buns had helped. 

By the time Beru had got all the knots out of Leia’s hair, Leia had eaten two biscuits and most of the yoghurt. She was alternating careful mouthfuls of yoghurt with nuts, eating with a kind of steady dutifulness that made a sad contrast to Luke’s insatiable appetite.

“I thought a simple braid,” Beru said, scooping up pins and ties into her hand and depositing most of them next to the cups of tea on the shelf. “Nothing that will pull. Unless your arms are feeling better and you would like to do it yourself? Or you have a preferred style?”

  
Leia hesitated, covering it skilfully with a gulp of tea. “Hair is meaningful for Alderaanians,” she said at last. “I would like something that’s… different, for now.”

“I’ll try a Tatooinian style, then,” Beru said, thinking how Leia had hesitated when Beru offered to braid her hair. 

“That would be interesting,” Leia said, with polite interest. “What kind of styles are typical to Tatooine?”  
  


“Well, people do things differently.” Beru stood up to part Leia’s hair down the middle, and started a braid close to the skull on one side, pulling in fresh strands of hair as she plaited, careful not to tighten the braid. “People hold less to traditional styles than they used to, and you have to remember I haven't travelled very much. Most women wear their hair quite long, but not nearly as long as yours. Shoulder-length, maybe. I had a slight kitchen accident a while ago and every time I try to grow it out again I end up in such a dreadful state I give in and make Ben cut it with the scissors.”

  
Leia’s tiny laugh felt startled from her. “I can’t imagine General Kenobi as a hairdresser.”

  
“He’s better at it than Owen, but that’s not saying much. Well, most married women would wear their hair in a bun, low at the nape of their neck, usually braided. Traditionally, that is. And unmarried women would wear their hair in two buns, high on the head -” she touched the sides of Leia’s head gently to demonstrate - “braided if their hair was long enough. I used to wear mine like that a lot. Young women keep it down in braids, in theory, but if you try to do any work out in the sand you quickly see the benefits of either cutting your hair or putting it up.”

“What did you do before - before my droids arrived?”

“We ran a moisture farm,” Beru said. She finished the first braid, and pinned it out of the way at the crown of Leia’s head while she started the second.

There was a startled pause. “On a desert planet? Tatooine _is_ a desert planet?”  
  
“Some day when we have a good deal more time I’ll tell you about Tatooine’s politics and economy. It’s not very enlightening.” Beru plaited on. “Tatooine is very largely desert, yes. Certainly neither I nor Owen nor Luke have ever seen any bit of it that wasn’t - though I suppose Ben had to find Luke somewhere.”

“I didn’t know he had another name,” Leia said. “F- My father never mentioned.”  
  


“Ah, well.” Beru smiled. She had reached the crown of Leia’s head with the second plait; she unpinned the first, and brought them all together with the rest of Leia’s hair to create one thick braid down her back. “When Ben arrived at our farm, he intended to leave Luke with us and then leave. Which is what he did, I suppose - I had to collect him from a hermitage months later. Silly man. He was not very forthcoming about his name. We told him to choose one for us to call him by, and he chose ‘Ben’.”

“Oh,” Leia said, and was silent.

“He was not very well,” Beru said. “He was extremely close to your birth father, and losing Anakin devastated him. It was obvious he was making poor choices at the time.” She rolled a hair tie onto her wrist.

“He didn’t tell you about me,” Leia said.

“No,” Beru said. “He wouldn’t have told me about Anakin and Padmé had I not met them both before, and guessed. He felt secrecy was safety.”

Leia was silent for a while. Beru continued braiding all the way down to the middle of Leia’s back, where she ran out of hair to braid at last. In her silences Beru saw Padmé in Leia: Beru had sat with Padme for hours while they waited for Anakin to return, and Padmé had hardly said a word.

Beru didn't mention it.

“I,” Leia said. Her voice had strangled, broken in half. “Family -”

“We are here for you,” Beru said, when it became clear Leia could say nothing more, and didn’t want to cry in front of her. “Whatever role you would like us to take.” She tied off the braid. “I’ll leave you to sleep, if you like.”  
  
“Yes please,” Leia whispered, her face turned away. 

Beru went to the door with her tea, and stopped when Leia blurted suddenly: “Beru.”

She paused. “Yes?”

“Thank you,” Leia choked.

“You’re welcome, Leia,” Beru said. “If you don’t want to be alone, Luke is by the dejarik table.”

Beru didn’t know Leia, not yet; but she knew Luke, and she knew Luke would go to the ends of the galaxy for the sister he only just met. A hug would be the least of it. Twins orbit each other, they said on Tatooine - the same people who said dividing twins was bad luck. Luke and Leia had found their orbit easily, without hesitation, even on an Imperial weapon of planetary destruction. The rest, Beru suspected, would be harder. 

“Thank you,” Leia repeated, and turned her face away. Beru left so Leia wouldn’t have to hide her tears.

  
  


She found Ben in the legal cargo bay, resuming his interrupted meditation session. Beru sat down next to him and drank her tea.

He opened his eyes as she drained her cup, with the uncannily good timing she had grown used to. 

“How’s Princess Leia?” he said. 

“Dreadful,” Beru told him. “But as well as can be expected. You might find she doesn’t like to be called ‘princess’, since her kingdom exploded less than a day ago.”

Ben flinched. There was a long silence, and Beru knew it sat more comfortably for her than for him, struggling to piece together words.

“I won’t ask if you forgive me,” Ben said, sounding beaten.

She reached out for his hand without looking, and he held it. “No,” she said.

“It’s far too soon,” he said.

“Yes,” she agreed. 

“Owen will be upset for a - a considerable time.”

  
  
“Probably.” 

Ben gave a short, huffing laugh, and bowed his head. Beru looked sideways. His eyes were much too bright, and his cheeks wet.

“This is not how I wanted you to meet her,” he said. “This is not how I wanted this to go. Bail - Breha -”

His voice cut off like it had been amputated. 

“I know that, too,” Beru said, and leaned her cheek against his shoulder as she grasped his shaking hand between hers.


End file.
